The Return
by uzumaki misaki
Summary: This can't be real. I must still be dreaming. - John's POV of Sherlock's return from "death." Platonic Johnlock bromance or just friendship, take your pick. This another Post-Reichenbach reunion fic. I hope you like it.
1. Chapter 1

**For those of you reeling from the feels of my first fic, "Questions and Answers at 221B," this is for you. While I can't promise that this fic is entirely angst-free, I do promise you that you won't bawl like a baby. This can be read as Johnlock friendship or bromance, take your pick.**

**DISCLAIMER: As always, I don't own John and Sherlock, they belong to Moffatiss, the BBC, & ACD. (And I don't own Doctor Who either. Virtual cookies for the first one to spot the line from series 6).**

**The Return**

**Chapter 1: Am I still dreaming?**

"Sherlock! No!" I bolted awake, his name on my lips. Another night, ending only in nightmares. 'Come on Watson, snap out of it. You're stronger than this,' I told myself. Except this was not the first time I'd given myself this pep talk, the sweat pouring off of me was proof of this. That's not to mention the tears I could feel falling down my cheeks.

Idly wiping my face with the back of my hand, I looked over at the clock on my bedside table. 5:55. Oh. I managed to wake up before my alarm again. Well at least this time it's just five minutes early and not an hour. But goodness, I need to stop doing this. He's been...gone for three years now.

"John, get a hold of yourself."

Oh that's just peachy, now I'm hearing his voice in my head again. I thought I'd managed to stop doing that.

"Stop doing what John?"

"Okay, hearing voices is more than a bit not good."

"And talking to yourself is equally not good."

"Yes, Sherlock, unless you don't answer... your...self." 'Okay this can't be real,' I thought to myself as I first rubbed my eyes before reaching to turn on the lamp on my nightstand. Only a hand with long, slender fingers reached it first, and switched on the light.

"Hello John, I'm-"

"Back from the dead? This isn't possible. I must still be dreaming," I said as I closed my eyes before pinching my arm to make sure I was actually still asleep.

"Ouch! That hurt," I murmured, rubbing my arm before stopping, the meaning of my pain setting in.

"But if that hurt, then that means that I'm really awake. And if I'm awake, that means that I'm..."

"Not dreaming," my apparently NOT DEAD flatmate informed me.

"So...you're not dead," I deadpanned in the most bored voice possible.

"John, I'm sorry. So very sorry. If you let me, I can explain everything."

I held my hand up to him, signaling that I didn't, no, I couldn't listen to him now. Apparently, he got the message because he turned and left my room. A few moments later, I heard the door to the flat slam shut, marking his departure from 221-B.

_** To be continued...**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: I can't take this anymore!**

I was tired of this mess. Now that I think back on it, the whole thing was pure Sherlock through and through. A small part of me always felt that he was capable of it, but as much as I wanted him to stop being dead and come back to me, I just couldn't bear to let myself hope.

I should have known better, after all, he is quite an actor. Apart of me wants to believe that he was not crying crocodile tears before he fell, because I could hear him crying, even though he tried to hide it. I want to believe that that at least was real, out of all the deceptions of that day. I just would not be able to deal with it if his sadness upon leaving me was faked too. I'd rather have the Sherlock of my dreams than one who only pretended to care about me.

"Arrgh! He is UNBELIEVABLE!" I just had to let out my frustration. Maybe when I calm down I can stand to listen to his explanation, but right now, frankly, my emotions are all over the place.

When I first saw him, I was startled because I couldn't tell if I was really awake or if I was still sleeping. Once I realized that I was awake and that Sherlock wasn't a figment of my imagination, I was in shock. Completely. This couldn't be possible and yet it was. At that thought, my shock melted into anger. I was so angry that I couldn't see straight. I barely heard Sherlock's apology. I know he wanted to explain but it was just too much. Too much, too soon.

_** To be continued...**_


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER/AN: As always, I don't own John and Sherlock, they belong to Moffatiss, the BBC, & ACD. Please read, enjoy, and review. Constructive criticism welcome. All flames will be used to burn the heart out of Moriarty.**

**Texts between...friends?**

12:30 pm

John, can we talk? - SH

About? - JW

Your terms. - SH

My what? - JW

Your conditions for allowing me to come back to Baker Street. - SH

Are you serious? - JW

Yes - SH

Hmm let me think about it and I'll get back to you after work. - JW

Thank you John - SH

Don't thank me yet - JW

5:30 pm

Is now a good time? - SH

Uh sure. Now what's this you want to know? My terms? - JW

Yes, John. Don't be dull, we talked about this during your lunch break. - SH

Yes, how did you-don't answer that, you know everything. - JW

Well, not everything, but close enough. - SH

Sherlock, I thought you were trying to get on my good side. - JW

I am. - SH

You - nevermind. I don't know why I even bother. - JW

Because of sentiment, although in this case, I'm glad for it. - SH

Well, I'm calm now, so go ahead and come over. Just be prepared. - JW

Prepared for what John? - SH

Well, remember how I once told you that I always hear 'punch me in the face' when you're talking? - JW

Yes... - SH

Well, this time, if I don't like what I hear, I will most definitely punch you in the face. Are we clear? - JW

Crystal. - SH

_** To be continued...**_


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I'm making some slight changes in my writing style with this chapter. The inner monologues from before are going to be more pronounced. Read carefully and you'll know who's speaking.**

**Disclaimer: Well, I don't own this because if I did, Sherlock series 3 would be on just after the new year, and since we all know that's not happening...**

**Chapter 4: Choices**

As I walked up to 221B, everything around me was a blur. Men and women walking to the Baker Street tube station, businessmen on their mobiles, and cars driving by. It was all a complete and utter blur. For once I saw and observed nothing. Me, the world's only Consulting Detective. The only thing I could think about was the meeting that would soon take place. I have rarely ever been truly scared...well, I'm not counting Baskerville. The only times I've really been scared have been when John was in danger. But now the fear that is twisting my gut is very different. This time, I'm not afraid _for_ John. I'm afraid _of_ him.

That very thought hurt deep down. It can't really true. What I'm really afraid of is the choice he's going to make today. It's all up to him. If he'll accept me back into his life, I will welcome it wholeheartedly. But if he chooses to shut me out of his life...well, I suppose I'll have to accept it and walk away. I made my choice three years ago, and I would do it again, if only John stays safe. Choices. Choices. What will he choose?

It had only taken a few moments for these thoughts to run through my head. And now, as they say, it was time to face the music.

~Holmes&Watson~Sherlock&John~

I told Sherlock that he could come by the flat today. Did I make the right choice? I sure hope so. I think I've calmed down enough now…at least, I hope I have. I promised him a punch in the face if I didn't like what he had to say. Hopefully, it won't come to that. I still cannot believe he did it though. He let me think he was dead and gone. He left me all alone. He left me more broken than I was when I met him. I'm sure he'll be here soon.

~Ding-dong~

Well, that's probably him, so as they say, it's time to face the music. I hope I've made the right choice to let him come and explain everything. I hope I can make the right choice for my future…our future. He's my other half. I still don't know how I managed three years without him. But I cannot, I will not let him hurt me again. Choices, choices. I must choose what's best for me. Well, here we go.

_** To be continued...**_


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: This chapter goes back to a dialogue/narration format. Please don't kill me for my strange writing style. Also, this is rather angsty, so here's a virtual box of tissues in case you cry easily (out of sympathy). Johnlock Bromance starts this chapter (no slash).**

**Disclaimer: My name is not Stephen or Mark or Arthur, therefore I do not own Sherlock and John...but man would I love to meet them!**

**Chapter 5: Second Chances**

"Hello Sherlock, why don't you come in," John greeted his friend as he opened the door wider to let the detective in.

Sherlock entered his former home without a sound. For once, John was able to deduce his friend instead of it being the other way around. The ex-army doctor noticed the slight bags under Sherlock's eyes and a slight tremor in his hands as he unwound his scarf and took off his coat and threw it across the couch before going to stand at his violin-playing window.

"John, thank you for letting me come to see you. I...I want to explain," Sherlock stammered.

John raised his eyebrows, perplexed as he realized what his observations were telling him. Sherlock was nervous. His best friend, Sherlock Holmes, the man with nerves of steel, was nervous. Interesting...for Sherlock to truly be nervous, this had to be serious. Goodness! Of course it's serious. The man had faked his own death. Not only that, he had faked his suicide!

As John was mentally berating himself and gradually becoming angry, Sherlock steeled himself for the tirade that was sure to come, as John was only this silent when he was angry, very angry. And he wasn't disappointed, as it was only a few moments later that he felt a hand on his shoulder before he was forcibly turned around and . John erupted.

"Sherlock," John literally growled. "I am giving you a chance, your one and only chance to explain things to me. I know that you do not really understand human emotions, but faking your own suicide?! No one, and I mean no one can possibly be that cruel, that unfeeling, that selfish! The least of all you. Whether you understand emotions or not, I know that you care about me, about Mrs. Hudson. But how could you put us through that?" John barely stopped to take a breath. He just continued to yell at his former flatmate. "Why did you do it Sherlock? Why? Why did you do that to me—make me watch as you jumped?"

At this point, Sherlock could tell that the anger was slowly draining away from his friend, only to be replaced by sadness. The detective remained quiet, patiently waiting for John to finish his speech. He was unperturbed when suddenly John started to beat his chest with his right fist, while still clutching onto Sherlock's shoulder with his left, the soldier's once steady voice, now broken and wracked with sobs.

"Sher-Sherlock, why did you hurt me so much? And wh-what took you so long to come back?" At that John fully let go of any anger he had and leant into Sherlock, and continued to cry. Sherlock, deducing what his friend needed, put his arms around the doctor and rested his chin on his friend's head.

"I'm sorry John. So, so sorry," Sherlock answered, tears beginning to fall down his own cheeks.

**_To be concluded..._**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Well, here it is, the last chapter, and I think it's the longest chapter too. Please let me know what you think. This is un-betaed, but I went back and fixed the typos. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: My name is not Stephen or Mark or Arthur, therefore I do not own Sherlock and John...but man would I love to meet them!**

**Chapter 6: It's All Fine**

I'm sorry John. So, so sorry," Sherlock began, tears beginning to stream down his face as well.

"I didn't want to hurt you, but it was the only way. The only way to keep you safe...and _alive_. You were in danger..._mortal danger_. It was Moriarty; he had his best sniper trained on you, and if I didn't jump, you would have been shot. And not just you. He had snipers ready to take out Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson as well," Sherlock explained.

At this information, John raised his head, sniffling a bit as he did so, and locked eyes with Sherlock. Some say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. He didn't believe in an immortal soul, but he could definitely see Sherlock in his eyes. In those sometimes grey, sometimes green pools of his, John could see his friend's heart. He could see his anguish. John could easily see the truth in his words. At that moment, John knew what he had to do. He knew what he had to say. He tried to pull back, but it seemed at that moment, that Sherlock didn't want to let go of him. Rather than try to struggle with the taller man, John just held his friend tighter.

They had never hugged before; there had never been a need. Also, John, tired of all the rumors of his and Sherlock's "_relationship_," had not wanted to add fuel to the fire. Not even in the privacy of their own home. But now, they both needed it. They both needed to be sure that the other was alive and well. Irene had called them a couple, and John had denied it. Well, in their own, strange, quirky, completely platonic way, they were. They were the best of friends. They were each other's world.

Before they had met, John's world was nothing but grey. Black and white. Dull and lifeless. But after meeting Sherlock, his world had burst into color. Three years ago, at St. Barts, the greyness had returned. But maybe, just maybe, he could have that color back. And John was not ashamed to say that he definitely wanted Sherlock back in his world. All the annoyances, all the craziness. He would take it all back.

Slowly, after what seemed like hours, but was really only a few short minutes, John felt Sherlock loosen his grip on him and step back. Again, they locked eyes, and with eyes now dry of tears, they silently deduced each other.

"Will you forgive me John?"

"I forgive you Sherlock."

They spoke at the same time, just as they had on the day they became flatmates. At the realization of their words, broad smiles broke out on their faces.

"John?"

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"Are we going to be okay now?" Sherlock asked quietly.

"Yes, Sherlock, I think we're gonna be just fine," John replied with a smile. "Oh, and Sherlock?"

"Yes, John?"

"Thank you. Thank you for saving my life, and the others' lives."

At hearing this, the detective smiled broadly.

"You're quite welcome John, but to be honest, I don't know what I would have done if you had died. You know, as I've told you before, that I'd be lost without my blogger," Sherlock reminded him.

"Yeah, well I _was_ lost without my detective," John said with a grin. "Oh and another thing Sherlock," the doctor paused, letting his friend know that he was being serious.

"The next time you decide to fake your death and disappear to parts unknown, you had better take me with you, or else I'm gonna hunt you down."

At that, Sherlock smiled and put his hand up to salute John.

"Yes, sir, Captain Watson, sir. I will definitely take you with me next time. But hopefully, there will never be a next time."

"Hmm, I like the sound of that. If I had known that all I had to do to get you to do—or not do something—was threaten you in my Captain Watson voice, I would have done that ages ago." The two men smiled and chuckled, each knowing that they had their best, closest friend back in their lives. No matter what difficulties may come their way, they knew that everything would be all right. And just as John had once said at Angelo's...

_It's all fine..._

** The End**

**AN: Wow! This story has over 800 views now! Thanks guys! I want to say a special thank you to TYRider for their reviews and encouragement/request to update. It seems that this one is more popular than my other stories. I'm glad that so many people like it. I hope you all enjoyed this story, as I enjoyed writing it. Until next time dear readers!**

**~~_Uzumaki Misaki~~_**


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